


Designation

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Ficlet, Knotting, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prompto finds out he’s not a beta.





	Designation

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Prompto always thought he was a beta like his boyfriend Noctis. He finds out differently in the worst way possible - while balls deep in his boyfriends ass” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9170571#cmt9170571).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Sometimes it hits Prompto, usually at the most random of moments, just how far he’s truly come—how _lucky_ he is, what utter perfection his whole life’s amounted to. It’s not just that he lives in a great city, that he has amazing friends, that one of those friends is _the crown prince of Lucis_ , but that he has the best boyfriend he could ever ask for. His prince is absolutely gorgeous, spread out beneath him across the plush sheets, warm thighs clinging tightly to Prompto’s hips and both hands tangled in his hair. Prompto kisses Noctis down into the mattress and drives harder into him. Fucking Noctis is truly like a dream.

Better. This is perfect, and it’s _real_ : his handsome prince is his best friend and his boyfriend, and they have the best time whether they’re at the arcade, dicking off at their part-time jobs, or fucking around the expensive open layout of Noctis’ grand apartment. Noctis kisses him back with equal fervour. Noctis nips at his bottom lip and turns away to let out the filthiest moan that Prompto’s ever heard—enough to make his toes curl and his stomach clench. He’s getting close. He never lasts as long as he wants to when he’s in Noctis, but Noctis is too tight, too _hot_ to resist. Noctis mouths at Prompto’s jaw and groans, “ _Prom_...” 

Prompto pants, “ _Noct,_ ” and covers his face in kisses. He’s so _pretty_. And he feels so _good_. Easily the best thing Prompto’s ever felt. He wants to babble about it—how great Noctis is, how much Prompto _adores him_ , just how very honoured Prompto feels—but he doesn’t have the words. Noctis’ hands trail down to Prompto’s shoulders, digging in hard enough to leave a bruise. Prompto will proudly wear any mark that Noctis gives him. 

Noctis stutters out, “Prom—” again, and it sort of sounds like he’s trying to tell Prompto something but doesn’t have the wherewithal any more than Prompto does. Prompto would still his hips if he could, give Noctis a chance to breathe and talk, but his body’s well beyond his control—he’s jerking into Noctis in a fit of mindless _want_. It occurs to him belatedly that he’s not even pounding into Noctis anymore, just steadily grinding deeper, never really pulling out. Noctis makes a choking noise. His face screws up, head lolling to the side, and Prompto nuzzles into it while one hand rushes between them to encircle Noctis’ hard cock. Prompto knows he’s getting close, and he wants Noctis to come with him. Noctis makes another noise, oddly unfamiliar, even as Prompto gives his shaft a long stroke. By now, their sweat, precum, and leftover lube more than eases the way. Prompto’s balls tighten. And then he realizes that something’s stirring in his cock—some new sensation that he’s never felt before.

The base of his cock feels strange. The rest of him is pulsing, throbbing, warm and ready, but he feels like he’s swollen. He stops kissing Noctis long enough to look down between them, but when he tries to pull his hips back, he finds that the rest of his body won’t go. He’s stuck in Noctis. He’s buried deep inside, and his cock won’t come out.

Even then, it takes a few extra seconds before Prompto puts the pieces together. He can’t get out because he’s busy plugging Noctis up. _With a knot._ His mind hazily forms the corresponding word: _alpha_.

His eyes snap back up to Noctis, whose face is still scrunched up, teeth grit together. Somehow, Prompto weakly manages, “I’m... an alpha...”

Noctis grunts, “I noticed.” 

And Prompto immediately corrects, “Fuck, I... I’m sorry...” He didn’t know, really, but Noctis has to know that—obviously, if Prompto knew, he would’ve warned Noctis before he topped, and it’s not like anything odd happened when Noctis did, so of course Prompto just assumed he was a beta, just like Noctis, just like _most people_...

Noctis minutely shakes his head and mutters, “No, it’s... it’s good, I... I like it...” He looks like he’s wincing, so Prompto isn’t sure, just feels swamped with horrendous guilt. Noctis’ pink tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip, and for once, Prompto doesn’t duck in to catch it. With a deep, shuddering breath, Noctis jokes, “’Just wish I was an omega with an ass built to take it.”

Prompto might be trembling. He can feel that Noctis is still hard within his hand, and Prompto is too; he hardly has any choice with where he is; but he’s still in a minor state of shock. He honestly had _no idea._ And it’s an awful time to find out. He feels frantic at the thought of hurting Noctis, of stretching him too much, of presuming to knot him—

But Noctis grunts, “Move, already,” and rocks up into him. Prompto shivers and groans as the movement jars his cock inside Noctis’ ridiculously tight channel. Still uneasy, Prompto tries to obey. He pushes in a little deeper, drinks in Noctis’ languid whine, and slowly rocks back. There’s little more he can do than just shallow grinding, but it seems to be enough for Noctis. Noctis’ cock twitches in his hand. He strokes it again, then works into pumping it in time with his hips rolling into Noctis. Noctis mewls appreciatively and arches up, catching Prompto in another kiss. 

It’s so hard for Prompto to resist. Noctis is everything he could’ve wanted in a partner, beta or no, and even knowing this, Prompto would never trade him for an omega. Prompto tells himself they’ll make it work somehow. Then he’s not telling himself anything, because it’s too hard to think straight with Noctis’ tongue in his mouth, Noctis’ velvety channel squeezing at his cock. Noctis’ talented hands run through his hair, down across his shoulders, all along his spine. Noctis’ soft thighs squeeze at him, drawing him in, all bare, flushed skin from head to toe. Noctis feels so good, and Prompto loves him so much—

Like nothing ever stopped them, Prompto races back towards the edge, and then he barrels over, roaring as he comes, louder than he ever has, like all the alpha hormones are raging in at once and taking his whole body over. He drives into Noctis while Noctis cries out and bursts across his stomach, painting his fingers. Prompto strokes him right through it, pumps him out, kisses him _hard_. Coming inside Noctis, stuck deep inside, feels _amazing_. He had no idea. He pumps that in too and moans as his dizzy head comes slowly down, his body hot and boneless. 

Finally, he parts their mouths enough to pant, “M’sorry.” And then he just sort of collapses onto Noctis, exhausted as much emotionally as physically. He’s still stuck inside. It’s so _weird_. His head’s still buzzing. Noctis moans beneath him but makes no complaint.

It’s a few thick seconds before Noctis answers, equally as breathless, “Dude, that... was incredible.” Prompto slumps with relief, and Noctis adds, “Kinda sore, but... incredible.”

Blushing worse than he did during the actual sex, Prompto mumbles, “Sorry.”

Noctis snorts, “Shut up.” He nuzzles at Prompto’s face, coaxing it to turn so they can share a proper kiss. Prompto deepens it right away. Then he worms his arms around Noctis’ body, holding on tight, even though the knot already meant he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Prompto buries an, “I love you,” against Noctis’ collarbone. Noctis yawns his way through returning it. He often falls asleep right after. He’s always tired. Right now, it’s probably the only option he has. 

It’s scary. It’s all a lot to process. But Noctis stays in Prompto’s arms, full of casual acceptance and satiated peace, and that makes everything so much easier. That’s all that really matters. Prompto kisses Noctis’ cheek as he drifts off to dreamland, and eventually, when Prompto’s heartbeat’s slowed back to normal and his trembling has dissipate, he follows along.


End file.
